


Harry Potter and the Untitled Fan Fic: Book 1

by EM_Blackwell



Series: Harry Potter and the Untitled Fan Fic: Book 1 [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aurors, Direct Sequel, Gen, Investigation, Post-War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:28:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29611491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EM_Blackwell/pseuds/EM_Blackwell
Summary: Months after The Battle of Hogwarts, the Wizarding World remains in disarray. Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley have received expedited Auror training and are quickly assigned their first major case. As Harry and Ron try to get to the bottom of the situation, Harry reminisces on what he has endured and what he and his friends may next have to overcome to save what little remains of the world that Voldemort and his Death Eaters have nearly dismantled.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Series: Harry Potter and the Untitled Fan Fic: Book 1 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2175558
Kudos: 2





	Harry Potter and the Untitled Fan Fic: Book 1

The fog had descended thick and heavy upon the village of Brackton upon Drearly in the earliest hours of the morning, obscuring everything encased within. The fog, which had seemingly come from nowhere had settled contentedly over the grass-covered dunes. And a deafening silence prevailed well into the late hours of the morning.

That was, until two loud pops, like champagne bottles being simultaneously uncorked, echoed throughout the densely clouded area. Only the keenest of observers would have spotted two young men, and very newly young men at that, making their way down the lane. As they moved along, they became lost in the fog, but their voices carried. 

“What the Hell the Ministry was thinking sending just us two to check up on this is beyond me. At least fifty of them, they said, and most likely more if Singh’s reports to be believed.” said the taller man. His fiery red hair cropped a bit too close to his head gave his freckled complexion center stage. With the earliest appearance of five o clock shadow becoming apparent, he brushed crumbs out of a surprisingly thick ginger mustache.

“Kingsley wouldn’t have asked us if he didn’t think we could manage it. Besides, I think they’ve become more reliant on us than they’d like to admit. Hard to believe a former Auror could underestimate just how badly they’d be in need of real Defense Against the Dark Arts.” replied the slightly shorter man, removing his glasses and in the same motion drawing a slender bit of wood from his robes, flicking it at the lenses and placing them back on his nose, his vision clearly improved, as they walked a slightly straighter path along the uneven road. 

“It’s got to have been the holiday that drew them in, right? Muggles lighting great massive fires and dancing about like loonies, drinking and laughing till all hours of the morning?”

“Yeah. I reckon that would be it…”

“What? You think maybe it was some other reason?”

“No, that sounds about right. That much joy contained in such a small space, it must have been like moths to a flame; they couldn’t help themselves. But there were celebrations all up and down the countryside last night, and this is the only incident we’ve heard of so far?”

“Yeah, as far as we know. So what?”

“So why here, of all places? Brackton upon Drearly? I doubt you’d find that on any map.”

“That’s true… just a couple hours north of the Burrow and I’d never heard of it…”

“Exactly! There’s plenty of much larger celebrations they could have struck. Instead, they decided to go all the way out to the coast to some dingy little fishing village? They aren’t particularly smart, but they aren’t stupid. If there was a much better meal to have been had, they would have gone to the trouble of finding it.”

They continued walking, both of them in deep thought.

“Harry, are you saying— ”

“I think someone told them to come here.”

“We haven’t heard of them allying themselves with anyone since—”

“I know. And that’s what worries me.”

For a while, they made their way down the lane in silence, each of them lost in his own thoughts.

Harry felt his life as of late had been like walking through a fog. For a while after the defeat of Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters, he had thought things might start to get better. But despite the greatest dark wizard of his time being vanquished and his followers dead or locked away, a melancholy haunted every part of his life.

He’d only gone to visit Mrs. Tonks to see Teddy once since he’d been born. When he’d held him, seeing Remus and Tonks staring back into him had been too much. He’d made polite conversation as he hurriedly downed his tea. Leaving with a rather rushed goodbye, he could see Mrs. Tonk’s crestfallen face as he apparated away. These painful overlaps didn’t stop there.

When he needed to send mail, Harry would just wait till he’d gotten to work and borrow a Ministry Owl and had all his mail forwarded to his office. The thought of keeping another owl after Hedwig still felt far off and improbable. And despite Ron, Percy, and Mr. Weasley’s urgings at work, he still had trouble accepting Mrs. Weasley’s invites for Sunday roast or early evening tea. The emptiness of the house that had once been so full of love and light that a life with The Dursleys had lacked now resounded with one son gone, another forever mangled, and the rest working to rebuild a world that the prophecy made between him and Lord Voldemort had unraveled.

While this new persistent prickliness persisted, life still found ways for them to celebrate. Every weekend the students at Hogwarts had had in Hogsmeade was an opportunity for Ron and himself to spend time with Hermione and Ginny. Between regaling each other with goings on at the school and their work as Aurors, they’d catch glimpses of Neville (now assistant to Professor Sprout) with so much new confidence Harry hardly recognized the clumsy boy he had met years ago. Hagrid, with a tankard of Firewhiskey, a roar of joy, and a thump on the back that still managed to send them both sprawling despite their growth. There was even the occasional appearance of Professor McGonagall, who was often much too busy with her duties as Headmistress for anything more than an exceedingly rare nightcap, would make the time with the slightest of smiles to approach their booth and say: 

“Potter, Weasley. How are you gentlemen treating these admirable ladies?”

But even with Voldemort and his followers dead or scattered to the winds, it seemed the damage they’d done was far from over. Every day _The Daily Prophet_ reported new witches and wizards who had finally been found and reported dead. Public opinion of the Ministry of Magic was at an all-time low as their resources were spread thinner and thinner. And even The Chosen One helping lead the Magical Law Enforcement Division was barely noticed by the Wizarding community as the fractures of the War continued to slowly destroy what they had barely been able to save. And to top it all off, the Dementors were loose across the country and breeding at a positively alarming rate. With an ample food supply and too few wizards and witches to corral them, it was not only the Wizarding community who now lived in constant fear, even if the Muggles did not know the cause of their angst.

As they made their way further into the village, they heard the soft, steady churn of the sea as it came in and out of the bay, the reedy whistling of the dune grass as the breeze rushed through their ranks and the cry of cormorants. Entering the heart of the village, they could see all about them the signs of what must have been some sort of celebration. Beautiful banners decorated with crinkled paper and iridescent foil. Party favors and streamers strewn carelessly about. Even a large table of food where a banquet of several broasted chickens, heaps of mashed potatoes, and partially eaten biscuits and pastries remained out in the open where the very last flies of autumn were gorging themselves before winter set in.

“Bit of an abrupt end to the party.” Ron said as he glanced over the spoiled food.

“It certainly doesn’t seem like the celebration ended of its own accord.” Harry replied, a sense of deep worry taking root in his stomach.

“I still smell smoke.”

Looking out across the cobblestone village square, they spotted a feeble trail of acrid smoke lazily rising over the rooftops of the cottages. Drawing their wands, the pair slowly crept forward. Leaving the village, they made their way toward the beach. A thick layer of fog met them as they descended onto the sand, and as they walked, they spoke softly in unison:

“ _Expecto Patronum._ ”

Two luminous figures, a stag with broad antlers and a dignified terrier with a spring in its gait, kept pace with them as they immersed themselves in the mist. For a while, there was nothing but the eerie calm of the seaside.

Then they heard them. The sharp strangulated moans echoed out across the beach and rebounded back with the pounding surf. Sending their Patronuses forward, Harry and Ron made their way to the smouldering remains of the bonfire. As their Patronuses made a perimeter around them, a softly lit revolving halo illuminated what had been obscured by the dense fog. Dementors filled the misty beach. As far as they could see in any direction, they continuously spotted more. Floating about in a daze and despite the light from their Patronuses and the sound of their feet sifting through the sand, the Dementors did not even acknowledge their presence.

And worst still, bodies, a dozen at least, littered the shore. Sprawled on their backs and contorted in all sorts of horrific angles. 

“I think I’m going to be sick.” groaned Ron, his face draining of color and taking on the consistency of curdled milk.

“We can’t lose our heads yet. Remember, we’re the professionals.” Harry managed to get out and surprised himself by sounding halfway convincing. On the inside, Harry was numb. His mind was already whirring with the worst facts and conclusions.

_How many people could live in a village this small? Had they all been at the celebration? Was this everyone in town? Souls gone and catatonic on the damp sand? If—_

_Shut up! This isn’t helpful. We can still help some of them!_

_Yeah, whatever few are left..._

_Remember your Auror training. Remember what you’ve already done before. This isn’t anything we haven’t already seen. You defeated the greatest dark wizard of the century. You can handle this._

_...Can you?_

“We’d better send a message to St. Mungo’s. They’re going to need a ward at least for all these people.”

“Er… Right.” said Ron, as he looked to try and steel himself. Summoning his Patronus to his side, he spoke a quick message, then pointing his wand outwards, the terrier bounded off inland until it was lost from sight.

“Why aren’t they reacting to us? Usually, a Patronus anywhere near them gets _something_ out of them.” 

“I’m not sure. But I suppose our only experience has been with Dementors deprived of what they want most. Maybe this is what they’re like when they’ve gotten to have their fill.”

Ron shuddered and took a step closer to Harry, pressing his back against his as he held his wand out.

“I don’t like this, Harry. Not one bit.”

“The Healers will be here soon. If anything else happens—” Harry trailed off for a moment, unsure of what he could even begin to say to inspire confidence or comfort in Ron.

“Then we’ll manage it. We always have.” Ron responded, giving Harry a grim yet determined smile.

“Definitely.” said Harry, returning Ron’s smile with a feeble one of his own.

“But bloody Hell, it’s times like these I really wish Hermione were here. She’d know exactly what to do.”

“You and I both. But we’ll have to manage. She’s got enough on her plate as it is.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation of the Harry Potter series that will try to remain as true to the original cannon as possible, while adding on new characters and trying to address some of the original series short comings. Please feel free to leave whatever comments you'd like. I'm always open to criticism, thoughts, or what you've enjoyed so far. There's so many ideas I want to explore but I do have a strong sense of where the story is headed already. I hope you enjoy this first installment and what's on its way!  
> Chapter 2 is titled: Professor Granger's Dilemma


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